


Paper Rings

by thenewjameswesley



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21161249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewjameswesley/pseuds/thenewjameswesley
Summary: Matt Murdock, son of Battlin' Jack Murdock has always gone along his own path left with no one after the death of his father, is found by a Taxi driver on top of the collapsed rubble that used to be Midland Circle. Brought to his childhood church, the vigilante is left to pick up the pieces as he recovers in the basement of his childhood church while the world goes on without him. Soo Matt is thrust into learning many truths including the fact he has a sister, one he never knew he had. And his alter ego is faced with a foe, unlike anything he's seen before.This story is an Alternate Universe of Season 3 of Marvel's Daredevil and includes many remixed events





	1. Chapter One- Battlin' Jack ( Matt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks of Matt's life before everything occurs, as he reflects on his Dad's boxing days.  
Present-day brings us back to Matt who, after surviving the collapse of Midland Circle Financial and having defeated The Hand. Wakes up in his childhood church basement having to face many truths, including the fact his friends Karen Page and Foggy Nelson think that he's dead.

Being the son of a famous boxer wasn't easy. When his father left home to step into the ring once again, Matt felt a confusing mix of pride and worry. He remembered the cheer of the crowd, the raw smell in the air, as he sat on the sidelines. No matter how many punches his pop took, he always got up. Even if Jack didn't emerge victorious that night, people from all over Hell’s Kitchen still showed up to see their beloved boxer. 

Matt sat glued to the TV every night after his dad headed out. “Come on dad, you got it,” he'd yell as the announcer's voice filled the small living room. With blind eyes, the announcer’s play-by-play described his dad delivering hit after hit as the fans cheered around him. 

“We're Murdocks, we get hit a lot. But we always get back up.” Jack's words echoed in his mind anytime his dad was knocked down 

Truth is, he'd sit there frozen, his mind racing, imagining the worst during the announcer’s silence, as his dad slowly got up after a bad hit, never knowing what else the opponent had in store for Battlin’ Jack. But every night, his dad would find a way to pull through the match and come home, face split open and bloody. Matt took a swig of scotch to steady his hands before stitching up the night's fresh wounds. 

There was a cost to all this -- one that plagued him, not knowing his dad was putting his life on the line with every match. It was a calculated risk to ensure they could cover the rent. His father seemed unphased and confident and would have done anything to provide for his family. 

Soon Matt was tucked cozy into his bed listening to the sound of the city's many sirens wail, inventing a story for each of them. Wondering if the ones coming to save these people would do enough, or would they just go back to the same situation only to need help again. Not everyone is out to help you in this world, and maybe I want to be the one to stop these people once and for all? So, no one has to get hurt again. 

His father was the only thing he had, always telling Matt that he wanted him to make something of himself. Study hard at school, so he wouldn't end up a boxer making his living from fighting. Or end up dead, having let the wrong people get involved with his career, or simply from taking one punch too many. Matt knew Jack only wanted better for him, and he was willing to do anything to make him proud. 

One night, Matt's life changed forever. He didn't know the mobsters had their hooks in his dad. Matt was too young to understand how dangerous these men really were. Jack would always just assure him, said everything was going to be okay. Never Speaking of the fact that the mob was pulling every string they could to get Battlin’ Jack to fight on their terms. 

The opponent that night was Creole, who Matt overheard the mobsters talking to his dad about in the gym one day. Threatening his dad, telling him that he had to lose that match. Matt remembered the TV announcer's voice relaying all the stunning punches thrown by his father, wondering when his dad would do as he was told and lose the match. But deep down he knew his father wasn't going to. And that fight, cost Matt his dad because just a few seconds after winning the mobsters returned, killing Jack on the spot.  
The police found Jack's body in an alleyway, along with a scared young Matt who’d run past the caution tape after begging officers to just let him see his dad. He wondered why as tears streamed. They took him away, the only person he had left in his life and now Matt was alone with no one left to guide him. 

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Matt felt a tap on his shoulder alerting him to the presence of a man dressed in a black suit with a small white collar. “Come with me, I'll take care of you.”

“Who are you?”

“I'm Father Lantom. I'm here to take care of you. “

Matt abandoned his post beside his dad --knowing there was nowhere else to go --he followed the priest. 

They arrived at Lantom’s church, where he took up residence with some other kids left behind by their parents. 

Lantom said,” You're going to be safe here, Matt I promise you.”

Present Day 

Loud sounds of children laughing and screaming filled the lawyer’s ears as they ran through the church basement, oblivious of the man lying in the small bed. Some nuns had come to his rescue after a taxi driver found the vigilante buried amongst the pile of rubble that was once Midland Circle Financial. They all said Matt was lucky, considering a whole building fell on top of him and the length of time he'd been lying out there. With his red suit missing, all that was left of Daredevil were bandages and a pair of sweatpants from the church’s clothing donation bin. 

Matt couldn't recall much about that night except leaving the NYPD's Harlem precinct with a duffel bag containing the suit. As much as Foggy didn't want him to, he decided to let the lawyer do his thing and help his friends bring down The Hand. 

“Go, I’ll meet you guys out there” were the words that escaped Matt’s lips before it was just him and Elektra Natchios left in that basement. Meeting the others was the last thing on his mind, as he fought the women before him. Battling until they couldn’t anymore, the pair let themselves fall back into their old romantic feelings, ones both knew neither had forgotten.

Kissing as the building began to crumble around them, Elektra being the last thing the vigilante saw before being buried under Midland Circle Financial. But that had been the cost of keeping his friends safe from The Hand Matt thought to himself as he lay in a pile of stone and brick, not knowing how he’d even survived. 

“Elektra!” Matt screamed, snapping himself out of a dream, his eyes now opened to find one of the kids had been staring at him from the foot of his bed. 

“What happened to you? “

Sitting up, Matt replied: “Life.”

“Run along now, “Father Lantom said, ushering the kid from the room before entering himself. 

Sighing, Matt sat up wondering if the priest was finally willing to give some answers to his many questions. Specifically, the whereabouts of Elektra, and if, she too, had survived the collapse. 

“Elektra, is she here too?” Matt asked, “did they pull her out?”

“I'm afraid not, Matthew. No one else was found amongst the rubble. You're lucky to be alive considering your injuries, but it will take time for them to heal. I'm truly sorry, about your friend. “ 

“That's what everyone keeps telling me, but tell me, Father, do you believe that? I'm here and Elektra isn't. Not to mention my friends Foggy and Karen are out there grieving for me because they think I was crushed under the weight of the building. “ 

“Then don't you think you should tell them? Your friends have been coming here for weeks, hoping and praying you somehow survived. Yet you choose to hide. Why? I want to understand.”

“I can't tell them, Father, they're better off thinking I'm dead. All I've done is cause them pain. So Matt Murdock is gone, only Daredevil’s left now.”

“You can't or you won't Matthew? You'd rather lay here while your friends grieve for you? while they hold on to shreds of hope that you'll come back? Because that's easier than simply telling them the truth.”

“They will get over it. Matt Murdock is not coming back. “

“We both know their grief will never fade. Has yours ever faded for your father? You can take away their pain, yet you refuse Matthew. What if someone could’ve done that for you? Where is your compassion? You are not the man I raised you to be.”


	2. Making a Deal (Fisk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fisk sets a plan in motion from behind bars making a deal with a desperate FBI Agent.

“We’ve been making good progress on your appeal, Mr. Fisk. But it’s tough finding a judge who wants to hear it.” 

“I don’t care about my appeal, what about Vanessa?”

“She’s safely stashed away just like you asked, Mister Fisk. But we’ve run into a few problems with getting her back into the country. The FBI has decided to charge her as an accessory; as soon she sets foot in the city, she’ll be arrested and face prison,” the lawyer replied. 

“Go, now!” 

Retreating from the table, the mob-boss sighed, a cold stare covering his face as he looked up at his lawyer, annoyed by the latest news regarding Vanessa. This was something Fisk couldn’t have, his love hauled off to prison because of his crimes. 

At the hands of Daredevil the mob boss had given up everything once again. After all, it wasn't the first time the vigilante had boxed Fisk into a corner, collaring the mob boss with threats of taking away his love, Vanessa Marianna.

The thought of his love turned him to mere putty. He would pay any debt to society to prevent her from harm.

The door buzzed before him as guards rushed to usher Fisk down the hallway back to his 8-by-10 home. A place that reminded him of his childhood apartment minus the constant fighting between his parents, with a young Fisk left to do nothing but listen to his mother's cries. Until one night, he rose from the chair he'd been sent to by his father. He picked up a hammer, and with one swing silenced those cries as well as his father.

Silence was all the mob boss could hear as he sat atop his cot, blood boiling in his veins as thoughts of the vigilante entered his mind, remembering kneeling under cement, powerless, as Daredevil stood over him awaiting the police’s arrival. 

Daredevil was blind; no prison would ever hold the powerful mob boss, leaving him once again to gain freedom. And then there was the eager lawyer Matt Murdock who'd come at him with every law in the book to ensure the mob boss was locked up forever, penniless, with a void in his heart.  
That only left him more eager to reclaim his freedom, and give the vigilante the rude awakening that there was only one way to take the mob boss out for good. But daredevil was too much of a coward to do it.

Snapping out from the dream, a guard’s voice filled his ears “Mister Fisk, you have a visitor.”

Smirking, Fisk rose from his cot, eager to receive his visitor. With hopes that his lawyer left his doubts behind and executed the plan. With hopes that it wasn’t his lawyer back to give him more bad news regarding Vanessa. 

Fisk’s gaze shifted towards the man sitting at one of the tables. Dressed in a black suit, with a white dress shirt underneath, tie undone around his neck. His eyes were tired from the lack of sleep he'd had that night.

“This is your third visit this week, Special Agent Nadeem.”

Taking a seat, the mob boss sighed, rather annoyed by the continued presence of the agent in the visitor’s area. Speaking the same words as before in hopes he convinced Fisk to take his deal that would benefit both the agent and the FBI.

Rolling his eyes, prepared for yet another spiel by the young agent. Without the presence of any counsel the mob boss once again offered Agent Nadeem his ear. Fists cuffed together atop the table to give the agent a feeling of safety. Unwilling to be the first one to speak, silence filled the gap between the two.

“I'm persistent. Why don’t you just tell me to eat shit, get this over with so I can be on my way. It’s clear after months of coming here, the answer is always the same.” 

Fisk sighed, before his lips parted to speak. “Do you have anyone in your life that you would do anything to protect? No matter the risk, or consequences faced. Think about it, as you take another stab at me, offering this deal your boss has once again brought another agent to me to see if I finally take the bait.” 

Ray’s eyes widened as the mob-boss spoke, words echoing through his ears. The agent thought about Sami and Seema and how he would keep any harm from coming to them. “What exactly are you saying?” he finally replied. 

“I want to make a deal,” the mob boss stated.

“Just what kind of information, can a career criminal like yourself provide the FBI? One who held a tight grip over the city, only to have it taken away. Now you’re desperate, looking for a way out.“ 

“I think we can help each other, Agent Nadeem. My vast knowledge of the criminal activity in this city will have you, and your fellow agents, eating out of my hand. All while making this city a better place.” 

“Let me get this straight, You can help us with criminals out of our reach? And you want nothing in return? I don’t believe a once powerful man like yourself doesn’t have an agenda.”

Fisk chuckled “That’s exactly what I’m saying, as you sit there thinking you’ve got it made a deal with a has-been mob-boss. Eager to tell your boss the good news, so next time there’s a promotion opportunity you don’t get passed down. You’re wrong, Agent Nadeem, I have all the power here, not you. The inmates in here could smell men like you a mile away. One whistle, and you’d be killed in an instant.” 

“So, you own half the guards, maybe some inmates too? If this is your way of scaring me, Fisk, it’s not working. You see, I’ve put away plenty of men like you, some even worse. I’m not afraid of the big bad, Wilson Fisk. In here you may have power, but right now, you’ve got nothing without me.” 

“My lawyer has only proven himself useless with his constant refusal to do as I ask. Why, because you and I both know no matter how many appeals are filed, I’m never getting out of here.” Fisk exclaimed, growing annoyed by the agent’s constant games.

Ray sighed in frustration. “I don’t know that, all I know is that the District Attorney is looking to make an example out of you. So yeah, your useless lawyer can bring on all the appeals he wants; no judge is going to set foot in a courtroom to hear them. So I’m thinking this deal is the last chance you’ve got right now.” 

Fisk scoffed. “Is it, Agent Nadeem. I own this prison; every guard and inmate is at my beck and call. They work for me; don’t you see that? You get hurt in here, no one would come for you. No one wants to get caught helping a fed, nor do I.” 

“Until you have nothing left to give, and by the look of things the money you’re paying them is running out. Then what are you going to do when all those guards and inmates you’ve been bribing for months turn on you? Tell me, Fisk Is that why you want this deal?” 

Fisk sighed. Maybe that was the reason, but Agent Nadeem’s words were the furthest from the truth. None of this was about money, even after he’d found out the police seized almost everything the mob-boss held so dearly. Now they were after Vanessa barring her entry into the country. The few off-shore bank accounts, he held meant nothing in comparison to his love. But it was a matter of time before he was penniless, and like Hell’s Kitchen, he’d lose control of the prison too. So, he did the only other thing, he could make a deal with the FBI.

“Wilson Fisk, you’re officially an FBI informant. Know that I’ll make sure this deal is made worth our while. So I’m going to go back to the office, and tell my boss the good news.”   
Rising from the table, a grin stretched across the mob-boss lips knowing full well what he’d just done. This deal was a mere step in his grand plan, to take back control of the city. And have his love, Vanessa back by his side. 

Sighing, Fisk continued down the hallway, hands cuffed to his waist as the guard led him back down to his cell. The cold stares of fellow inmates peered through the bars of their cells, making the mob-boss wonder if they had any clue at all he was working with the FBI.

“Fisk, I saw you sitting there with that man, was he a fed?’

“Are you having doubts of my loyalty? I sent him back to his boss, hands empty of any deal between me and the FBI. Agent Nadeem knows full well what I could offer him and the FBI, yet I remained loyal. To you, and my fellow inmates whose protection I see to every day. Why do you think the guards don't pick on you and look the other way instead of putting you in solitary? Because of me. I keep you safe while you lie cozy in your cot, able to sleep with both eyes closed, knowing no one is coming to get you. Funny, how all that could just disappear because you stand here with doubts of my loyalty. Enough to accuse me of becoming a snitch. How selfish do you think I am? I own this prison; don't forget who's in charge here.“

“I haven't forgotten Mister Fisk. The other inmates and I are grateful for your protection. It's in our nature to get suspicious when a fed comes around wanting to talk to one of us.“  
“Move along, and if you ever doubt my loyalty again you will find out what happens to those who dare question me.”

Buzzing, the cell door opened as Fisk made his way inside. A grin painted across his lips knowing that everything had gone exactly how he planned.  
Before the door could shut, an inmate took it upon himself to enter the mob bosses’ cell. Soon turning to face him, Fisk chuckled. “Wilson Fisk? It's a pleasure to finally meet you,” He said.

“What brings you here? Are you too following the suit of others who question my loyalty?”

“I’m not questioning anything Mister Fisk, I just wanted the opportunity to meet you, you're quite famous around here.”

“You didn't just want to meet me sneaking in here with your made-up agenda. Instead, wanting to question my loyalty like one of your fellow inmates had already.”

Refusing to reply, the inmate lifted his hand from his pocket inching closer to the mob boss before plunging a knife straight through his jumpsuit.

“I'd keep one eye open, Fisk. Because I won't be the last guy in here coming for you.”


End file.
